Jo Bunting won a tour of Scotland, and fell in love with its history and beauty ? not to mention her ever-patient guide, RichardNever having experienced a minibus tour before, I soon realised that it would involve a certain mind shift. The way I'm used to doing things, the driving part is simply a means of getting to where you want to go and if there's going to be rain and poor visibility, then the day you're driving to your destination is not a bad day for it to happen. On a scenic tour, however, the driving is the holiday and therefore having something to look at out of the window is fairly essential. Otherwise you're just sitting in a minibus with 15 strangers, several of whom are engrossed in a crossword.Early on, I wondered if we had people on board with bladder problems. Eventually, I realised it was just the intonation of Richard, our bekilted guide: "We'll be driving for about an hour, and then we'll stop for a wee. Coffee. After that, it's on to Spean Bridge for a wee. Spot o' lunch."Throughout the journey, he got the balance just right between giving us some fascinating information and then keeping quiet for a while, so I could enjoy the noise of the woman behind me eating an apple.The first day involved a drive through the valley of Glen Coe. Even the weather couldn't mask its staggering beauty, and as we peered out through steamed up windows, Richard described its terrible history. By 1 January 1692, the clan chief of the MacDonalds was supposed to have gone to Inverary to sign an oath of allegiance to King William, but mistakenly headed in the opposite direction to Inverness. Now I've done this sort of thing lots of times, but luckily so far my profuse apologies for the eventual late arrival haven't resulted in me being put to the sword. For the chief, who finally reached Inveraray on 6 January, the price for being late was having his whole clan murdered.Along the entire length of Glen Coe there are now just two small farms and one house, the latter Jimmy Saville's holiday home ? something I would never have known if I'd just been relying on a guidebook. Other facts I learned from Richard's excellent commentary during the tour: Glenelg is the only palindromic place name in Scotland; when you're on Orkney, you're nearer to the Arctic Circle than you are to London; and the lighthouse on the Brough of Birsay was designed by Robert Louis Stevenson's cousin. I love facts like these, and was writing them all down so I'd remember them. When I glanced at the notes my neighbour was making in her travel journal, it just said "mist and fog".Orkney is an extraordinary place full of ancient delights ? St Magnus Cathedral, stone circles in varying degrees of intactness (one farmer in the 1850s got fed up with the one on his land and blew several of the stones up with dynamite), and a tomb covered in Viking graffiti. But the highlight for me was the settlement of Skara Brae, where you can still see the stone dresser on which a proud Iron Age housewife would have displayed her most precious objects.As the five-day trip progressed, my estimation for Richard was to grow in proportion to the irritation I felt with a number of my travelling companions. When I revealed that I'd tried on a Fair Isle jumper but had decided it was too expensive, one of the women on board informed me that it was for the best, as "it wouldn't have suited your barrel-like shape". I admit I had an overwhelming urge to open the door of the moving minibus and throw her onto the horns of a Highland cow.How does Richard do it? When he asked us if we'd tried the wonderful Orkney steak the previous evening, and someone shouted from the back seat, "Yes. And it was tough as old boots!", how did he manage to remain so courteous? I tried to redress the balance by declaring that I'd had an excellent steak (which was true ? at Helgi's restaurant in the harbour in Kirkwall) but my remark was met with something of a silence, as if I'd let the side down.The location of the Kylesku Hotel, on the shores of both Loch Glendhu and Glencoul, was just lovely. Enjoying the view outside, I got chatting to an exhausted looking young man, covered in grime and wearing bright orange overalls, who explained that he'd been out on a boat for 10 hours. Behind him, his workmates were unloading vast sacks using a crane. "What have you got in there?" I asked. "Mussels," he answered. What a job. They're grown on ropes apparently and I've got no idea how they actually harvest them, but I bet it's hard work. Yet I'd still rather do that than be a minibus tour guide.As we arrived back on the outskirts of Edinburgh, Richard quoted from the Scottish poet George Mackay Brown, who he thought summed up the Orkney islands perfectly as "like sleeping whales ? beside an ocean of time".He was right, but I was amazed nobody yelled, "That's rubbish, that is!"I'd been driven through 900 miles of wonderful landscapes and 5,000 years of history, and seen not only world-renowned archaeological sites, but also hidden beaches, gorges and caves that I would never have discovered alone. Richard deserved a medal, but as I didn't have one handy, I gave him a bottle of whisky instead, then watched as the lights of the minibus disappeared into the Edinburgh night. And, much to my surprise, I was sorry to see it go.? A guided nine-day tour of Orkney and the Outer Hebrides with Rabbie's Trail Burners (0131-226 3133, rabbies.com) costs from �518pp (students, seniors and children from �478), including B&B accommodation, a driver/guide and ferry and bridge crossings ScotlandHighlandsTravel writing competitionUnited KingdomCoach travelGroup tripsguardian.co.uk © 2011 Guardian News and Media Limited or its affiliated companies. All rights reserved. | Use of this content is subject to our Terms & Conditions | More Feeds
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